And
now he would have to wait until day after to-morrow. He would go
to-morrow night to this Mother Somebody. What was her name? He could
remember nothing, was, indeed, as stupid as if he had been knocked in
the head. Well, he had been. Where did this woman live? The child had
refused to tell him. With a sudden stop he looked around. Where was
he? He had walked miles in and out of streets as unknown to him as if
part of a city he had never been in, and he had no idea where he was.
A sudden fear gripped him. Where did Carmencita live? He had paid no
attention to the streets they were on when she took him to the house
she called home. He was full of other thought, but her address, of
course, he would get before he left, and he had left without asking.
What a fool he was! What a stupid fool! For half a moment he looked
uncertainly up and down the street whose name he did not know. No
policeman was in sight; no one was in sight except a woman on the
opposite pavement, who was scurrying along with something under her
shawl hugged close to her breast, and a young girl who was coming his
way.
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